


No Matter What

by steelneena



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Episode: s13e06 Tombstone, Everything is always destiel even if it isn't the main focus, Post-Episode: s13e06 Tombstone, SPN 13x06, episode tag tombstone, hahaha, just like the show., post ep coda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-18
Updated: 2017-11-18
Packaged: 2019-02-03 19:41:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12754881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steelneena/pseuds/steelneena
Summary: Jack runs. Team Free Will find him and Dean waxes philosophical and gets personal.Coda Fic to Tombstone.





	No Matter What

**Author's Note:**

> Written for L, because she's the greatest and we both adore Jack so much. Too Good, Too Pure. And also because destiel.
> 
> I haven't written for supernatural in 4 seasons. As such, all my other SPN fanfic is on LJ and FFN.

They found him. Jack supposed it must have been inevitable. He’d seen the lengths to which the Winchesters had gone for themselves and others, strangers in passing. Even the threat of harm, the threat of _him doing them harm_ wasn’t enough to keep them away. There was too much care in them. And with Castiel around, things were even more altered. _Dean_ was altered.

Jack had grown used to the surly and often outright violent demeanor of the older Winchester brother. He’d watched just enough television on Sam’s laptop to understand that Dean was “a Hard Man” and what that entailed. And then Castiel returned and everything Jack thought he understood about Dean was demolished at the mere appearance of a genuine, all encompassing smile. He didn’t have a phrase for the radical change in Dean’s behaviour, but Jack assumed that there had to be one out there to describe the...the...he didn’t have a phrase for it, which irked him, but Jack dismissed the thought, focusing his thoughts on Dean instead of all the other things which threatened to overwhelm him. The memory of the security guard flying back, his head crunching against the pillar, was emblazoned in his mind. Hot tears splattered the ground, leaving darkened marks on the concrete.

It was Dean who’d hauled him up by his collar off the ground where he was seated behind a store that proclaimed the name “Adult Pleasure Palace XXX”. Sam and Castiel stood behind him, watching. Sam had the same look on his face as always, somewhere between sympathetic, empathetic, pitying and frustrated. Castiel was inscrutable.

“Jack, kid, you and I are gonna talk,”  

The others said nothing as Dean steered him away from the alley and into the bright neon glow of the parking lot. Without speaking, Dean smoothed his collar, brushed imaginary dirt off the fabric.

“You can’t skip out on us man. Look, I know that I was...less than welcoming but you gotta understand that I’m not good at shit like this. One mistake ain’t getting you kicked outta the bunker. And we’ve got Cas back… You aren’t going to hurt us.  Listen kid, I’ve been to hell. I spent forty years there. I’ve been through worse than your accidental temperamental power flares, and I’ve done worse with power I thought I could control. So’s Sam. And so’s Cas.  Sam’s made big mistakes, I’ve made big mistakes, hell, even Cas has made some monster cock-ups in his time.  But we always stick together in the long run. Because we’re a family. And you don’t back out on family. You and Cas,” Dean paused, patting Jack on the shoulder purposefully. “You and Cas are like family now,” Another pause. “I guess,” He added awkwardly. “And if Cas says you’re family that means you’re family. For Sammy and for me too. So you do something, we’ll help. You you run, we’ll come for you. And if you get in a scrape, we’ve got your back. And if this messed up shit in your head starts getting to you, all you gotta do is say something,” He passed a hand over his face, sighing, long and drawn out as if he was suddenly exhausted. "People die, for better or worse, on this job. And I’ve killed more people and been responsible for more deaths than I’d like to admit. I’ve ruined lives. “I’m not a good example of well adjusted. Or emotionally stable. You met me when I was at my worst. Not even hell got me down so low I just wanted to-” The words choked off suddenly, and Dean’s eyes glinted in the pink glow with unshed tears. Jack cocked his head curiously, waiting to see if he would continue or change his trajectory. “Point is,” Dean continued when he’d composed himself. “Point is that you gotta be better than me, Jack. You gotta talk to us. You don’t want to be like me. Don’t ball this all up inside, pretend that you can handle by yourself, that we’re better off without you, because we’re not,”

Jack thought about how he’d mimicked Dean in his first days on earth and wondered if those actions were included under the heading “Things not to do like Dean”, or if it was limited to his ‘emotional health’. He chose not to speak, because Dean licked his lip and swallowed hard. He was looking back into the not-so-distant alleyway where Cas and Sam stood obscured in the shadows.

“We’re not really good role models. But Sam, he knows how to talk. And he doesn’t push me. I know that he doesn’t, because he knows I’m a brick wall when it comes to shit like that. But you’re...new,” Dean struggled to find the word. “And you’ve got all this opportunity to decide who and what you’re going to be. And _how_ you’re going to be it. Don’t waste that because you think it’s how you’re destined to act. Cause the thing about destiny is that it doesn’t mean shit. I’m the Righteous Man,” Dean said the title with disgust. “The Michael Sword. In other words, the vessel for the archangel. And Sam,” He slung his thumb back over his shoulder. “Sam was the vessel for your dad. And we were supposed to duke it out to destroy the world. But we didn’t,” Jack’s head shot up and he watched Dean sharply, the older man’s face darkening as he spoke. “We said fuck it to fate. That’s what Team Free Will does, and you’re on that team. Don’t waste it because I was being all shitty at you when I was hung up on Cas-”

The look on Dean’s face was almost terrifying. Jack wasn’t sure what the name was for the emotion that spread a deep rose across Dean’s cheeks, but his total silence was deafening and frightening, like he’d said something forbidden. “I…” Dean stammered. Jack, whose understanding of Dean was still confused by his complete personality reversal, stood awed. Dean didn’t seem like a person who would ever stammer. “Don’t let anyone or anything tell you how to be. Don’t let the way I treated you set the standard for how you deserve to be treated, or how you should treat other people. I was upset about Cas and I wasn’t thinking straight,” The words fell from Dean’s mouth but they sounded utterly foreign. “I looked at you, and I saw everything I’d lost. It was unfair. I treated you unfairly. You’re not a monster. I’m not going to kill you. I couldn’t even if I wanted to. You just want to do some good. And you can, Jack. You can. Your mom believed it, Cas believed it. Sam. Me. I have to believe that you can be good in this world. You’re it Jack. if free will exists, then you’re damn well going to be living proof of it,”

There was obviously something missing from the end of the sentence, hanging like a blank space on a wall where a frame used to be, but Jack didn’t know what may have been there if Dean had kept speaking. It was an apology. That much he understood. An apology that was circling around something with deeper personal meaning to Dean than he was willing to admit to Jack, at the very least.

Solemn, Jack nodded. “I understand. I’m sorry. I won’t do it again. Leave I mean. Or kill anyone, if I...If I can help it,” He added, hesitant. “I just...I don’t want to hurt anyone. I don’t mean to! I never meant to, I just wanted to-” He sobbed suddenly, surprised by the sound of his own anguish. It hushed him instantly and the tears burned hot again. “I don’t want to disappoint you. Or Sam. Or Castiel,”

“You didn’t. You won’t. And you don’t gotta apologize. It’s on me. You’re fucked up worldview is on me. Hell, you ain’t even five weeks old yet and I’ve already fucked you up. Great track record,”

Jack wasn’t sure what the running based sport had to do with emotional issues, but he let it go as another colloquialism he had yet to learn. Dean was “chock full of em” as Sam once put it.

“Okay,” He stated simply, hoping the response would be enough. Dean clapped him on the shoulder, nodded firmly and turned back to the alley.

“Let’s get the show on the road, Cas, Sammy,” Dean called.

Jack watched as the emerged from the darkness. Sam was watching him warily and Castiel remained unreadable as ever.

“Jack-” Sam started, but Dean held up a hand.

“Jack’s done all the talking I think he can handle tonight. Why don’t we all just pile in the car and get the hell outta dodge. It’s been a long couple of days and I think the kiddo here needs some serious sleep,”

Jack wished he felt strong enough to smile at Dean, but he didn’t have it in him and instead allowed himself to be steered back to the Impala, Castiel fairly hovering nearby. He folded himself into the Impala and, as the car door close behind him, heard Dean say something under his breath to Castiel.

“He’s gonna be alright Cas, I promise,”

“Thank you, Dean,”

“He’s going to need you,”

“I know. And I’ll be here. For you too, when you’re ready,”

Jack tuned them out, focusing on anything and everything but Sam seated ‘shotgun’, his leg nervously bobbing up and down. Castiel joined him in the back, behind Sam, looked him in the eye and said nothing, but the emotion there was raw with unbridled energy. It reminded Jack of what he felt inside when he attempted to use the power, but instead of volatile, it seemed controlled, like a wildcat on a leash, ready to be sprung upon someone at first sign of trouble.

Dean was the last to enter the car. He turned his head to look at the three of them as he pulled the door shut.

“We’re going home,”

Dean’s words held an air of conviction, of certainty, the likes of which Jack had never experienced. The older hunter’s eyes landed purposefully on Jack. “Home,” He repeated. Then, before Jack could blink, the engine was revving to life and they’d begun their forward trajectory back to the bunker.

Back home.

Despite everything he’d done,  everything he was capable of doing, Jack still had a home.

_No matter what._

  
  



End file.
